


Heavy Lifting

by letmegeekatyou



Category: Supernatural
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-18
Updated: 2014-02-18
Packaged: 2018-01-12 21:34:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1201462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letmegeekatyou/pseuds/letmegeekatyou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas is tired of Dean carrying things for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heavy Lifting

When Dean and Cas were out on jobs together, Dean liked to be the one to do the heavy lifting. The first time he took a bag of weapons from Cas after a fight, the angel was insulted.

"I’m barely injured, Dean. I can carry it."

"Yeah, man, I know," Dean replied, but he took the bag anyway. Cas fought for it briefly, his hand warm against Dean’s on the strap, before giving in. He wouldn’t admit it, but he was a little sore. And he definitely wouldn’t admit it, but he didn’t dislike watching Dean’s muscles strain under his shirt as he lifted the bag over his shoulder. He was astonished at the strength of the human body that so easily comes apart and yet can do so much and bear so much. And, if he was being honest, he was astonished, constantly, by Dean.

Dean did the same thing with shovels and with bodies in need of disposing, making sure he was the one carrying the heavy stuff. He liked doing this for Cas, liked the weight of whatever he was carrying, liked the soreness in his arms that meant he’d been useful. He also liked the height of Cas’s shoulders when they weren’t weighed down, how he stood taller, like he was keeping his wings from brushing the ground. He looked, in those moments, like the battle angel he always was, unbreakable and beautiful.

But Dean never said that out loud, and they continued to fight over who would do the carrying until Cas finally reached the end of his patience in a motel room somewhere in Utah.

"We need to talk, Dean," he said, staring the hunter down so that Dean took an involuntary step backwards, almost falling onto the nearest bed. "I am strong, and I can carry my weight. You trust me in battle; why do you treat me like a weakling when the fight is over?"

"I don’t, Cas! I know you’re not weak, that’s not what I’m doing." Dean paced the floor, trying to find the words to explain himself, flustered under Cas’s glare, finally stopping in front of the angel but not quite looking him in the eye. "I like to carry things, okay? I just like it."

In his anger, Cas lost some of his carefully learned social skills and stepped forward into Dean’s personal space. “You let Sam carry his own bags.” He squinted incredulously. “You let Sam carry your bags sometimes, too. Why not let me do that?”

Dean stared for a moment at the matted carpet underfoot, but couldn’t find the right words to explain, couldn’t figure out how to end the fight and go back to normal. He looked involuntarily at Cas, suddenly very aware of both of their bodies and the tension within and between them.

"Why, Dean?" Cas asked more quietly. "Why not let me carry things for myself?"

Dean felt his chest tighten. “Because… Because I like carrying things for you. Because I like to take a little weight off your shoulders when I can. Goddammit, I like being a gentleman for you because I love you, Cas.” The words came out in a rush, like he’d thought about them over and over but never thought he’d say them.

And now that he had, he was afraid of what they meant. He averted his eyes again, afraid Cas would be even more offended, would vanish in a gust of wind or, worse, look at him with that pity he reserved for monsters who underestimated him, who had no idea what they were dealing with. How could he, Dean Winchester, who had tortured souls in Hell, who was cursed and toxic, who let everyone down, how could he dare to love an angel of the Lord? What was he thinking, trying to carry his bags like a helpful boyfriend?

But then Cas’s hand was on his cheek, and it was gentle, and Dean couldn’t find a trace of pity or disgust in those deep, blue eyes. In a heartbeat, Cas had him against a wall, their bodies pressed tightly together, and his hands were in the angel’s hair, and their mouths collided hungrily. He felt Cas’s hands on his sides, strong and sure, his hips pinning Dean in place. Relief and then excitement ran through Dean’s body like a fire. After a moment, Cas pulled away from the kiss and slid his hands downward, under Dean’s thighs.

"My turn," he murmured, and Dean felt himself lifted into the air like he weighed nothing at all. He wrapped his legs around the angel and held on.

***

When Dean and Cas are out on jobs together, Dean likes to be the one to do the heavy lifting. Cas still sometimes fights him for it, just to enjoy the brief collision of their hands before he lets Dean win. The angel repays him in other ways.

**Author's Note:**

> Original version posted at http://sammysalive.tumblr.com/post/70399583677/heavy-lifting


End file.
